


in loco parentis

by pepperfield



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Advice, Caretaking, Established Relationship, Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Old Married Couple, Slice of Life, Team Fluff, somewhat canon compliant, team dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21966925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperfield/pseuds/pepperfield
Summary: Kuroo and Daichi sure have a lot of children for two men with no children.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Tsukishima Kei, Kozume Kenma/Yamamoto Taketora, Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 59
Kudos: 433
Collections: One shots





	in loco parentis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [audriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/audriel/gifts).



> Happy holidays, Audriel!! Tis I, your (late) secret santa!! Angst was eluding me, so I went with our boys being relationship goals/team dads!! I hope you enjoy it, my dear!! ♥♥
> 
> Note: there are some references to manga spoilers, but this fic is not fully canon-compliant so non-manga readers can decide if they want to proceed! Thanks for reading!!

“You’re too well-adjusted,” Suga says irritably when Daichi slides into the chair next to him. For some reason they’re both back home at the same time, so they’re getting dinner together, even though they see each other every other week in Tokyo.

“Wait, is that a bad thing?” Daichi asks, handing him a napkin because he forgot to get one for himself.

“Doesn’t sound like a bad thing,” Kuroo adds as he pushes Daichi’s drink closer to him. “They didn’t have what you wanted on tap, so I ordered the usual for you instead.”

“Oh, thanks! Don’t forget that my mom expects you to eat some of her yuzu cake later, so don’t stuff yourself.”

“You know I’ll never turn down anything made by the effervescent Fumiko-san, even if that means eating so much cake I want to die.”

“Don’t tell her that; she’ll just spoil you more.”

“ _This_ ,” Suga growls, banging the fist holding his fork on the table noisily. “This couple synergy you have. It’s bad. Slimy. Repugnant. I do not approve.”

Daichi raises an eyebrow and passes him another napkin when the sweet potato falls off his fork because he won’t stop banging. “Do you actually disapprove, or are you just mad that you’re not having any luck on those weird off-brand dating apps you keep downloading?”

“Hey, CircumnaviDate is a very legitimate way to meet hip, young, single people who like to travel and live in the moment.”

“And how many of these hip, young, single people have you actually liked?”

“One,” Suga mutters as he tears into his hamburger steak. “And she moved away to Sweden after our third date.”

“Mm,” Daichi says, not meaning it in a particularly judgmental way, but Suga chews harder regardless.

“What was that other one you were doing,” Kuroo asks absently as he leans forward to accept a bite from Daichi’s chopsticks. “Uh, cupcake something? Croissant?”

“Oi, oi, oi, are you really going to subject me to your incessant married-ness while I’m literally across the table complaining about how the love of my life moved to Moomin country? Seriously?”

Kuroo frowns. “I think Moomin is from Finland, actually-”

“That isn’t the point! And Donut Cronut Wonut was a bust too, okay?!” Suga bellows at him.

“Who allowed that name?” Daichi asks, looking perplexed. He moves slice after slice of pickled radish to Kuroo’s plate as he says critically, “Anyway, what did you really know about that girl? Her favorite color? Her dog’s name? Why did you even like her?”

“She had verve! She had, y’know, like joie de vivre! She had my _ideal_ girlfriend haircut!”

“This is like that guy from Kagoshima all over again.” Daichi shakes his head. “You just liked the way he wore jeans. Scammed by the aesthetics once more.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on Suga-chan. It’s tough to find a date,” Kuroo says sympathetically, and Suga almost begins to believe that he’s really as kind as he purports to be. “Do you want me to set you up with someone? There’s this tech in the blood lab who’s pretty cool-”

“Oh, Furuya-san? She makes gundam models, right? Suga’s probably not meticulous enough for her.”

“Hey.”

“Counterpoint,” Kuroo says, resting a grandfatherly hand on Suga’s shoulder, “Suga-chan has a cute face and Furuya won’t turn him down even if he has boring hobbies and can’t nail his comic timing.”

“Are you on my side?” Suga demands, rattling Kuroo by the arm that’s holding him. “Because it feels like you’re not!”

“I’m always on your side when it doesn’t end in me sleeping on the couch,” Kuroo responds sweetly. “But when you and Daichi fight- I mean, I know better than to get in the middle of that.”

“There are no sides here, Suga,” Daichi says, as if he’s being reasonable right now. “We’re all rooting for you. Even when you self-destruct spectacularly.”

“I- okay- first of all, you’re officially demoted from the position of my best friend. Sawamura who? There is only room for Asahi in my heart,” Suga replies peevishly. Daichi shrugs, because this is par for the course; Suga will promote him back in about two months’ time before demoting him again over a new slight. “Secondly, please give Furuya-san my number. I don’t know much about gundam, but I’m willing to learn.”

“Can do, buddy,” Kuroo says with just the slightest amount of pity coloring his words.

Suga gives him the most contemptuous side-eye he can muster while simultaneously trying to eat chopped hamburger. “Why do I feel like I’m a son who’s just realizing that his dad knows he sucks at playing catch but continues to humor him on weekend mornings anyway even though they’d both rather be watching cartoons?”

Kuroo smiles kindly at him. “I have no idea, little guy.”

“Seriously, quit that. Leave your parenting to the others; I don’t need it.”

“Others? What others?” Daichi asks.

“You know, all our friends and kouhai. You two have some kind of pathological need to parent the rest of us, just like back in high school.”

“I’ve never parented you,” Daichi says with a slightly disbelieving laugh, and Suga sighs. He hopes he looks as put upon as he feels. Kuroo takes a long sip of his beer and pretends he isn’t deeply interested in this conversation.

“Mostly just because I was your co-parent. Really more like the cool and fun uncle who can take charge when needed.”

“Exactly. We were a team!”

“ _Were_ is the operative word, Daichi. Your Dad hindbrain recognized me as an equal, which kept me safe from your paternal instincts, but _now_ your Happy Couple cortex sees me as a pitiful single and your dad reflexes are kicking back in! You’re worried about my health and emotional well-being, aren’t you? Admit it!” 

Daichi, flustered, stammers out, “Well, of course I’m worried about you! You’re one of my best friends-” 

“Ex-best friend,” Suga reminds him coldly.

“-and everyone worries about their friends sometimes!”

“ ‘Everyone’ doesn’t bring you ginseng soup at 11 at night because they sensed three days earlier that you were coming down with a cold. ‘Everyone’ doesn’t scold you over social media for going out clubbing after your French lit final even though your next test isn’t until the following week! ‘Everyone’ doesn’t sigh at you for making cost-ineffective choices when buying a new computer! Time to face the facts, Daichi. You are a genuine, certified, 100% organic _dad_.”

Daichi deflates, and his eyebrows draw together in a very paternal scowl. “I guess I didn’t realize?”

“Sounds like he’s got you there,” Kuroo says with a laugh, but he quickly clamps his mouth shut when Suga whirls on him next.

“Oh, like you’re any better, Kuroo Tetsurou. You and your links in the group chat about pesticides and unethical corporate farming practices. You and your _tips_ on how to change motor oil. You and your awful chemistry puns that you use every chance you get in order to torment the younger generation! You are every bit as much a dad as Daichi is, and everyone but the two of you knows it!”

His eyes are blazing and his fork is sharp, so Kuroo holds his hands up in surrender.

“Okay! I’m a factory fresh father. I admit it. You got me.”

“Good,” Suga sniffs and returns to his meal. “Don’t even think about offering to drive me back to my parents’ place after dinner. I’m going to hire a taxi like the fiscally irresponsible young person that I am.” Never mind that he’s older than both of them.

The grimace on Daichi’s face makes him look like he’s in legitimate pain, but Suga doesn’t care. Taking a taxi would be better than having to witness the two of them being domestic and coupley while trying to navigate Google Maps together back to Suga’s place. This is both for his own good and theirs. 

\--

Daichi didn’t set out to be parental substitute #1, and Kuroo certainly didn’t set out to be the go-to father figure for their strange herd, but sometimes life throws you into the job you were meant for, not the one you wanted.

It’s early on a Saturday night when Daichi first realizes the truth of Suga’s claim. He’s leaning his head on Kuroo’s shoulder and trying to read emails on his phone sideways when Kuroo’s ringtone goes off. Kuroo startles out of his light nap and accidentally knocks Daichi to the other side of the couch as he goes to pick it up.

“Do you really still have a special ringtone for your underclassmen?” Daichi asks, amused by the way Kuroo practically dove onto the coffee table to pick up.

“You’re telling me you don’t have some kind of warning sign that Tsukki and Nishinoya are about to rain havoc on your life?”

“Fair point.” 

Kuroo lifts his finger to make a ‘quiet’ gesture, and answers his call. “Hey, Shibayama, what has you calling your humble old senpai on this fine evening? Wait, you what? It’s okay, slow down- I’m listening.”

Daichi waits patiently for Kuroo to finish his conversation and shoots an email back to his coworker while he has the time. When he glances up at Kuroo, he sees his boyfriend walking over to grab his coat.

“So, Shibayama somehow managed to put a hole in his wall? Or, someone did in any case — he didn’t name names, but I’m going to guess they’re tall and Lev-shaped. Anyway, he wanted to know if we still had any drywall left for him to use, but I figure I might as well go over there and help him fix it.”

“Oh, can I come with? I’m sick of all these long emails about why people didn’t read the other long emails from people whose short emails got ignored. Office politics is nonsense.”

“Sure,” Kuroo says with a grin, tossing Daichi his coat. “You can be my beautiful assistant. I know how much you like spreading joint compound.”

  


When they arrive at the Shibayama-Haiba apartment, there’s a surprising number of other people there. There’s a guy with fluffy hair sitting tamely on the couch who Daichi vaguely registers as having seen in pictures on Daishou’s phone before. Next to him is Inuoka, who looks like he’s reading the wikihow page on home repair, and at the end of the couch is a Fukurodani player, armed with dustpan and paper towels.

“Hey there,” Kuroo says as Lev lets them in looking sheepish. “Looks like you guys got up to some fun, huh?”

Shibayama pops out from a hallway holding a tub full of random tools as they remove their shoes in by the doorway. “Kuroo-san! Sorry to call you out here, but you’re the only one I know who’s handy around the house- oh, Sawamura-san, welcome!”

“Hope you don’t mind me intruding,” Daichi says, waving. “But I figured Kuroo might need some adult supervision.”

“Oi, I _am_ the adult supervision.”

“Not when there’s paint involved.”

Kuroo puts on his goggles and sends everyone away from the space as he cuts out a new piece of drywall. Daichi, sitting suddenly in the middle of a circle made up of the others at the far end of the room, listens to the grand tale of how their Wii Bowling tournament resulted in Lev accidentally putting his knee into the wall.

“And because Onaga missed his turn, Kuguri went next, but then he remembered halfway through that Hinata-”

“Wait. No. Stop.” Daichi puts his hand up and sweeps his arm in an arc around the circle to indicate that nobody should speak until he can wrap his mind around this new information. “Hinata was here?”

“He still is!” Lev says brightly, and Daichi feels an irrational wave of worry course through him.

“...where is he?” He’s already suspecting the worst. Out the window and on the balcony? On the roof? Inside the hole that Kuroo is about to fix?

“Just in the kitchen,” Inuoka tells him. “He’s helping Taketora-san make dessert.”

“Yamamoto’s here too?” Kuroo places his saw on the ground and shakes the sawdust off. “That makes things even worse. He knows better than to let you guys run amok like that.”

“It’s not his fault,” Onaga says. “He was on snack duty when it all went down.”

“Letting you all within two meters of each other at all was his first mistake. Where’s Fukunaga? He’s the only one I trust to hold down this fort.”

“Oh, quit scolding them, Tetsu. I think they’ve learned their lesson. Right, guys?” Daichi tilts his head and looks around the circle; everyone averts their eyes as they nod. “Right?” he asks again, stressing the word with the illusion of a smile on his face. This time the nods are even more frantic than before.

“You know, I still don’t actually know how Lev got his knee into the wall,” Kuroo says when Shibayama helps him trace the edge of his drywall square around the hole. The others have decided to play a nice, calm game of cards while they wait for the repairs to be done and for dessert to be served. Only one person ends up getting hit in the face.

“It’s probably best to leave it that way,” Inuoka replies. “Every time we try to continue, Sawamura-san starts twitching when he hears Hinata’s name. I think he’s having flashbacks?”

“I am,” Daichi says darkly. He’s mentally preparing himself for whatever state Hinata’s going to be in.

“Mm, Akaashi-senpai used to get those sometimes,” Onaga says, and Kuroo grins as he cuts his square out of the wall.

“That’s the least surprising thing I’ve heard all day, and I was literally just listening to a story about Lev destroying his own house.”

After Kuroo fits the piece in, Daichi gets to have his fun with the joint compound before letting Kuroo finish up the job. As Kuroo explains to their hosts what their next steps are tomorrow, Daichi watches the other guys play a very rousing game of blackjack. Kuguri wins for the fourth time in a row and sends everyone into a fit, which results in stomping footsteps from behind them.

Yamamoto emerges from the kitchen wearing a Bouncing Ball apron (which Daichi hadn’t realized was the kind of merch people wanted to buy) and holding a large ceramic dish. “Hey, quiet the hell down,” he yells, before noticing Daichi waving at him from the couch. “Oh, Sawamura-san’s here too. You want any anmitsu? I’ve also got butter cookies.”

“I’ll take a cookie. I somehow never realized you were big on cooking,” Daichi says as he follows Yamamoto to the dining table, while the shouting picks up again. He’ll leave it to Kuroo to wrangle, whenever he’s done washing up in the bathroom.

“Yeah, I got into stress-cooking a few years ago when Kenma kept crashing at my place every time he had to do performance reviews. That was a weird time. Now he has middle management so it’s kinda calmed down, but that’s no excuse to let my skills slip!” Yamamoto says as he scoop-slams a spoonful of jelly cubes into a cute little bowl.

“Good attitude. How’s Kenma doing? And Nekoma?”

“Kenma’s doing fine; he just set up something new in his gaming room, but I don’t really get it. Sometimes I watch him doing his streams, but you know I only play dating sims and racing games. Living together was kinda strange at first, but we’re used to it now- I mean, you get it. You and Kuroo-san have been together for ages.”

Daichi thinks back to those first awkward months of cohabitation and sighs nostalgically. “I definitely get it.”

“Haha, yep. Nekoma’s doing great. Interhigh’s coming up, and Coach Naoi and me have a good feeling about the guys this year.”

“That’s great. Kuroo said you have a training camp coming up, right? Give Coach Ukai my best.”

“Sure thing!” Yamamoto finishes distributing the kanten and picks up the bowl of anko next.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Daichi carries the empty dish back to the kitchen while Yamamoto starts doling out fruit and anko. Stepping around the corner, he looks for a place to set the dish down but a lot of the counter space is covered in stray ingredient containers.

“Daichi-san!”

Daichi swivels around and beams at the sight of his former teammate when he sees him with all four limbs and clean of both flour and sawdust. There are, however, soap bubbles on his arms, which is the best Daichi can expect. “Should you really be here?” he asks as he tugs Hinata into a one-armed hug. “Don’t you have a match coming up?”

Hinata returns the embrace carefully so as not to get suds on Daichi’s sleeve. “Not until next Wednesday! I’ll be back at practice tomorrow morning, but since everyone was around, I wanted to come hang out!”

“Next Wednesday, huh?” Daichi takes one of the mixing bowls in the sink and begins soaping it up, deflecting Hinata gently with an elbow when he tries to take the plate back out of Daichi’s hands. “What city is it gonna be in? Maybe Kuroo and I will come watch.”

“Sorry, it’s in Akita, but maybe the next one!”

“Yeah, that’s a bit far on a weekday.” Daichi finishes scrubbing his current plate and hands it to Hinata to rinse. “What’s it like playing on the same team as Tsukishima again? Are you two driving each other up the wall yet?”

“Haha, well Tsukishima is always Tsukishima, y’know? _I’m_ having fun, though!”

“When are you not?”

They finish the dishes together, and by the time Daichi is done helping Hinata wipe down the kitchen, dessert is apparently ready as the cheers from the living room seem to convey.

Daichi and Kuroo enjoy a nice bowl of anmitsu and get roped into one last big round of blackjack before they take their leave.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Lev asks as they put their coats back on. “We were going to do a tennis tournament next!”

“Maybe don’t do that,” Kuroo suggests. “At least, not where I can see it. Or think about it.”

“Yessir. Thanks again for the help with the hole! I think I learned my lesson.”

Daichi points at the drying patch on the wall. “Don’t forget to sand it down before you paint. If you run into any problems, you know where to find us. But try not to service ace yourself into more property damage, okay? Goodnight, everyone!”

The response is loud enough for them to hear, even after Lev closes the door.

\--

Daichi wakes up on the first day of winter at 2:32 a.m. to the sight of snowfall outside their bedroom window and the sound of his phone playing some kind of dungeon music from a game that Kenma likes. He doesn’t know what it is, but when he decided a few months ago to do as Kuroo does and assign special ringtones to his beloved, troublemaking underclassmen, Kenma offered to download some jingles and set it all up for him.

Kuroo mumbles something about pandas in his sleep, but Daichi shushes him gently with a pat to his ridiculous hair and manages to fumble his phone into his hand to answer.

“Yamaguc-” he says into his yawn, and the frantic noise of Yamaguchi babbling into the phone gives him a warm sense of nostalgia. Yamaguchi grew up so much in those years after Daichi graduated that when he saw his successor’s successor for the first time, he’d been bowled over with pride at the confidence and steadiness that Yamaguchi was radiating. Unfortunately, even iron-willed crow captains can wind up mired over their heads in unforeseen complications.

“Daichi-san, I’m so sorry to bother you, but Yachi-san and I are stranded at the airport, and they say with the weather that all flights have been cancelled until tomorrow…”

Daichi listens to Yamaguchi’s explanation about the storm stranding him and Yachi in Tokyo for the night without tickets to ride the train home and back the next day, and lets him finish his current train of thought before breaking in to say, “Yamaguchi, if you’re about to ask me to come pick you up and let you two stay in our guest room, the answer is yes. You’re at Haneda, right?”

Daichi confirms with Yamaguchi that he’ll call when he’s near, and then he goes to get dressed in the dark so as not to disturb Kuroo. He’s gotten good at dressing in the dark to stop from disturbing Kuroo when he wakes first. Sounds usually don’t rouse Kuroo as easily as light does, so Daichi texts him a quick note about where he’s going, just in case his boyfriend wakes up wondering. He doesn’t take the time to brush his teeth; he just swishes some mouthwash around before locking up behind him and hurrying through the snow to his car. Despite the scarf around his neck it’s still cold under his coat as he drives slowly toward the airport.

Most people are headed in the opposite direction, but it still takes Daichi a good chunk of time in the winter weather to get to Haneda. He sits idling at the pickup for just a moment, watching snowflakes clump on his windshield, before Yamaguchi and Yachi bustle out to meet him.

“Sawamura-san!” Yachi exclaims as Daichi helps her put her luggage in the trunk. She’s so chic and put together now that Daichi almost forgets the shy little violet that first got suckered into joining the team, but now, with her almost-wail of thanks and the way she and Yamaguchi flutter into the car like exhausted ghosts, he feels a warm flash of affection for them. No matter how grown, they’ll always be his underclassmen.

They tell him their tale of woe as he drives sedately back to the apartment. Finally their schedules had aligned for them to take a little vacation together, and hopefully the weather will let up long enough for them to escape. Daichi promises that it’s no problem for him to drive them back tomorrow morning for their rescheduled flight.

“We’ll get up early to be ready on time, captain.”

“You don’t have to call me that anymore,” Daichi says with a laugh. “I should be calling _you_ captain, if anything.”

“He still does it with Ennoshita-san too,” Yachi says.

“At least I never accidentally called Coach Ukai ‘Grandpa’ the way Kageyama did at Interhigh in our third year. Remember the look on his face? No, wait, remember the look on _Tsukki’s_ face?”

Yachi giggles, probably at a memory of some terrible face Kageyama made or one of Tsukishima’s obnoxious comments. “They argued about it for weeks!”

“Good to know that none of you settled down any in the years after I graduated.”

They tiptoe into the apartment even though Daichi tells them they’re unlikely to wake Kuroo anyway. It’s a little cramped in the guest room with both their suitcases, but Daichi helps them make it work. He brings them towels and gives them a quick tour of the bathroom and kitchen before double checking that there isn’t anything else he can get them.

Yamaguchi has to practically push him back to his bedroom. “We’re okay, captain! I promise. We’re probably just going to wash up and go right to sleep.”

“Alright, but if you need anything at all, you know where to find me.”

“Of course; we always do.”

Daichi reluctantly changes back into pajamas and puts his clothes on the chair for tomorrow morning. As he crawls back into bed, Kuroo’s arm comes up to snake around his chest, pulling him closer.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Daichi whispers, resting his cheek on Kuroo’s shoulder. Kuroo is squished against Daichi’s pillow, and Daichi can’t see his eyes, but he feels the slight rumble of his chest when he speaks.

“Your cold absence in our marriage bed woke me,” Kuroo mumbles back, and Daichi rests his hand on Kuroo’s lower back.

“Just picking up some strays. They’ll tell you about it at breakfast tomorrow; go back to sleep, Tetsu.”

In the morning, Daichi makes okayu with egg and spring onion, and the four of them squeeze around the little kitchen table to eat together. As Yachi recounts to Kuroo the trials of their airport experience yesterday, Daichi looks out the window to see that the snow has finally stopped. There’s just the slightest bit of chill in the air, but the okayu is hot, and Kuroo and Yamaguchi each have untamed bedhead that makes Daichi think about the warm summer nights of training camp all those years ago.

Even though it’s been an eternity since they saw each other every day, he’ll never forget that one wild year that’s forever written itself into the tomes of their shared history.

\--

So they’re kinda the dad friends of the group. Kuroo has come to accept that. Everyone apparently already knew; Kuroo and Daichi just took a bit more time to catch on. So this self-imposed position of theirs is all well and good, except for the fact that _certain_ people are too stubborn to ask for help even when it’s been well established that the Kuroo-Sawamura team is ready and willing to be of service.

And by certain people Kuroo means Tsukki.

Recently, it has come to his attention that one Tsukishima Kei still has not acted on his affections for one Hinata Shouyou — feelings that Kuroo was made aware of through a few years of careful observation and also Tsukishima’s own inebriated admission right before he puked right next to Kuroo’s second best pair of shoes and collapsed into Bokuto’s pillowy chest. But mostly the studious observation.

Kuroo wouldn’t be so hung up on the issue if it hadn’t been for what he witnessed last week. After going to see their match, Kuroo and Daichi had joined Hinata and Tsukishima for dinner at a local noodle shop. Conversation was fun and easy enough, except Kuroo kept getting distracted by the truly unbelievable amount of pining he sensed coming from Tsukki every time Hinata did anything. Sure, he kept up his facade with the usual obnoxious teasing and snarky responses, but underneath it, Kuroo could sense a heart in turmoil. Lingering glances, secret smiles, considerate gestures disguised by another dry comment. Kuroo recognized the signs of a gremlin in love, seeing as he lived through them himself.

But what Kuroo saw that Tsukki didn’t, was that Hinata found Tsukishima just as radiant as Tsukishima found him. It was spelled out in the way he laughed, the false irritation that colored his words when he got into Tsukki’s space, the way his attention never strayed when Tsukishima was speaking.

Kuroo tried to corner Tsukishima about it after Hinata bid them goodbye that evening, but his protege fled like a wild pokemon. The next time he saw Tsukishima he tried to give him a little push by way of his usual expert provocation tactics, but Tsukki just brushed him off and escaped again. It’s been weighing on him ever since, and Daichi has heard more than his fair share of complaints on the matter.

“Our boy has grown distant,” Kuroo sighs as he and Daichi watch their weekly goofy medical drama. Daichi nudges him in the side and turns the volume down by one tick.

“Leave Tsukishima alone. If he wants our help, he’ll ask for it.”

“But it takes so long to wait...”

“Are you seriously whining right now?” Daichi asks, laughing. “What, do you feel defeated because you couldn’t goad him into asking Hinata out? Everyone’s older now. They’re not as easily provoked as they used to be.”

Kuroo reaches up toward his boyfriend’s head and says, “No one’s aging half as fast as you, Daichi. Look, another gray hair. That makes, what, 35% of your hair now? Maybe we shouldn’t go out for dinner tomorrow. The reservation isn’t until 8. I wouldn’t want to keep you out so late when you get so sleepy so quickly now.”

Daichi bares his teeth in an irritated smile and traps Kuroo’s hand by entangling it with his own. “You don’t have to prove me wrong by doing your schtick on me, you asshole,” he says, flicking Kuroo affectionately on the forehead. 

“Ah, but you’re so fun to tease. Nobody else makes such a cute face.” He punctuates his point by leaving a kiss on Daichi’s creased brow. “And if anything, your wrinkles and slow shuffle make you even cuter.”

“We are literally one month apart in age,” Daichi says, rolling his eyes. “You’re lucky I’ve invested so much time into you, or I would leave you for a more pleasant man.”

Kuroo’s gasp is long and offended. “More pleasant than me, the kindest person alive?”

“I’m sure I can find someone somewhere. Tokyo’s a pretty big city, and I’ve got enough saved up to fly abroad if needed.”

“Forget about doing that and help me break through Tsukki’s hard dinosaur egg shell instead. Maybe I can get through to Shrimpy…”

“Just leave them be, I’m telling you. It’ll pay off in the end. Don’t you want the satisfaction of Tsukishima crawling to you for help because he knows he has nowhere else to turn?”

“...you bring up a very valid point. Thank you yet again for being the voice of reason in my life.”

“And thanks for being mine,” Daichi says, draping his legs over Kuroo’s cold feet to warm him up. “Now shush, they’re finally going to figure out what’s inside that guy’s stomach.”

  


One fine morning at ex-captain’s brunch, Tsukishima, who’s there as Yamaguchi’s guest, slouches up to Kuroo as they’re waiting to be seated.

“Kuroo-san,” he says with palpable regret, “I find myself in a position where it might be pragmatic for me to request your help.”

“That’s certainly a way of saying it,” Kuroo comments, resisting the urge to reach out and ruffle Tsukki’s slightly curly hair.

“Well, I didn’t want to give you the impression that I wanted or needed to talk to you. This entire conversation is against my will,” Tsukki says dryly, and Kuroo bursts into laughter.

“Did your captain order you to finally suck it up and come see your cool and knowledgeable senpai for advice?” He cranes his neck around Tsukki to see Yamaguchi chatting with Akaashi about...treason? Bizarre.

“Yeah. He thinks he’s clever.” Tsukki’s expression is truly a delight. It looks suspiciously similar to the expression that Kuroo has seen Daichi wear while talking to Suga, and Yaku wear while talking to...well, Kuroo. Not Kai, though. Kai always looks kind and reassuring, even when he thinks you’re an idiot.

“He probably is; no one can put up with your cohort for long without having a tungsten heart and terrifying mental willpower.”

“I’m glad to see you two getting along, but we’re being seated now,” Daichi says, coming between the two of them to grasp them both by the elbow, leading them to the table. Tsukishima puts up with it without a word, which only further proves what Kuroo was saying just now.

Kuroo sits patiently through everyone making their orders and then finally gets the chance to lean in and ask, “So, how can I help you, friend Tsukishima?”

Tsukishima twitches at the word “friend” and pinches the bridge of his nose before sucking in a breath and looking Kuroo straight in the eyes. “I need some advice on romance. From you two.” 

“From us?” Kuroo asks, placing his hand on his chest and pretending to be surprised. 

“You two are...well-adjusted,” Tsukishima allows, and Daichi turns to Kuroo with a frown.

“Why does everyone say that like it’s a disease?”

“Because it’s kind of infuriating, captain. Anyway, Yamaguchi said I needed to get this sorted out before he took things into his own hands.”

Daichi nods knowingly. “Never cross your best friend when you know he has nothing to lose.”

“So that’s why I’ve come to you. Do you. Have advice. On how to confess to someone.”

“If you said that with any less inflection I would assume you were a robot.” Kuroo raises his hands when Tsukishima’s eye starts twitching. “Okay, but to be serious for a moment, what do you want to know?”

Tsukishima looks slightly caught off guard by the question. “I guess I just want to know the best way to go about it.”

“Tsukishima,” Daichi says, his voice stern but kind. “You know there’s not one size fits all answer. But for someone like Hinata-”

“Who says it’s Hinata?”

“Is it somebody else?”

A few seconds pass. “No, it’s him,” Tsukki admits, defeated, and Daichi pats him heartily on the arm.

“That was very brave and honest of you to admit. Good work. That’s the kind of attitude you need to have going into this. There’s no one correct way to confess or ask someone out, but Hinata is straightforward, and most of all, he’s a good guy. If you tell him honestly how you feel, he’s not going to disrespect your confession, whether he sees you in a romantic light or not.”

“Are you telling me that the only thing I can do is tell him the truth?” He looks pained.

“Kind of,” Kuroo says. “I mean, you don’t have to confess at all. But you’ll never know if you don’t go for it, right?”

Daichi is looking at Tsukki with the same fondness he reserves for all his kouhai. “I know it might be daunting to someone like you to be so clear-cut, but I think you can handle it. Find some time when you’re alone together. Tell him you have something important to say. And then you just say the words: ‘Hinata, I like you.’”

“What if he asks why?” Tsukishima looks horrified at the prospect.

“I mean, why indeed?” Kuroo asks. “What is it about him?”

They’re interrupted by the waiter bringing out their food, and then discussion lulls for a moment as everyone begins eating. Kuroo and Daichi make a tacit agreement not to push Tsukishima until he figures out for himself how to proceed with the conversation. Kuroo gets caught up in some argument Daishou and Bokuto are having over superhero movies. It isn’t until Daichi is finishing the remains of Kuroo’s hotcakes that Tsukishima finally puts down his utensils and begins speaking to them again.

“He’s unstoppable. He’s like a force of nature. A hurricane. A lightning storm. You can’t help but get caught up in him because he’s just so bright. And I used to resent that a little bit, but these days — these days I’m remembering all over again what it was like to be subjected to his light. To be part of something with him.”

He sighs, resting his forehead in his hand as he says, “He’s still so _Hinata_. But now, instead of being exhausted by it, I’m...happy? To see him? When we’re apart I waste time thinking about what he’s going to say when we’re at practice, or what stupid picture he’s going to text to me. It’s like I made the mistake of letting him visit my house and one day I finally notice he’s slowly moved in without me realizing. I didn’t know it was going to feel like this,” he says, helpless, and Kuroo smiles back in understanding.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Knowing that you’ve let someone else mean so much to you in a way that no one else does?”

“I kind of hate it.”

Daichi laughs, and jerks his thumb toward Kuroo. “I tried to crush Kuroo’s hand to bone dust several hours after meeting him,” he says. “Do you know what it was like realizing that his ridiculous laugh and his awful biology jokes made my heart feel like it was going to burst?”

Tsukishima gives Kuroo an unimpressed snort. “That sounds unquestionably bad.”

“Yeah, but I don’t regret it. He’s a strange catch, but a good one.”

“The fish of his dreams,” Kuroo confirms, winking.

Daichi smiles crookedly at Kuroo before turning back to Tsukki. “So that’s really it. Be confident. Be honest with him, with yourself. And whether it works out or not, at least you won’t be stranded with the regret of never knowing.”

“I might regret more how it turns out,” Tsukishima points out, his face cautiously drawn.

Shaking his head, Daichi points at Tsukishima and says, “I know you. You read the situation, you analyze, you plan, but at the end of the day, you would never go home without taking a shot. You’ll do it in your own time, but you’ll follow through.”

The face Tsukki makes leaves Kuroo unsure of whether he’s more annoyed at Daichi for understanding him, or at himself for being that kind of person. He takes a sip of coffee and then sighs in resignation.

“Fine. Alright. I’ll- at some point, I’ll do it. When I’m ready.”

“Okay, then. If you need any more advice, you know who to call,” Daichi says, smiling.

A glimmer of light returns to Tsukki’s eyes. “Yeah, I do have Akaashi-san’s number saved in my phone.”

“Hey, rude.”

  


Precisely one month later, Daichi is texted a photo from Tsukishima. It’s a slightly out of focus shot of Hinata sticking his tongue out at the camera, captioned only with the words “A strange catch.”

“I can’t believe it!” Kuroo exclaims when Daichi shoves his phone in his face to show off the photo.

“What, that he went through with it?”

“No, that he didn’t text me too!”

“Sorry, he just looks up to me more. Still, we should be proud of him.” Kuroo watches as Daichi texts back a message of support peppered with some happy emojis.

“I am proud. That snarky little Diplodocus really did it. But you did end up giving most of the advice,” Kuroo whines, faceplanted flat onto Daichi’s stomach.

“Well, I did most of the work asking you out,” Daichi reminds him. “You kept stumbling over your words.”

“You were unfairly smooth. Why weren’t you as nervous as me?”

“I’m never nervous around you, that’s why.” Daichi ruffles Kuroo’s hair up under his hands before smoothing it back into place. “You always make me feel like everything’s going to be okay.”

“You’re so sweet it’s killing me,” Kuroo groans, enjoying the slight give of Daichi’s stomach and thighs under his weight.

“Good. I can finally cash in on that life insurance policy I took out years ago.”

“Loving someone to death is a really inefficient way to get rich, Daichi.”

“I like to do things the hard way.”

“...I’d like to do _you_ the h-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Tetsurou.”

\--

No one handles pressure quite the same way that Akaashi Keiji does, possibly because no one front-loads pressure into their own daily life the same way that Akaashi Keiji does.

“It’s going to be flawless,” Akaashi says through gritted teeth to Kuroo while clutching a crumpled party hat in his hands. They’re in a paper and party goods store a week before the big day; Kuroo foolishly volunteered himself to help when he received Akaashi’s message in the special group chat last week. Daichi is busy with overtime in the office this week, but he said he would be available to run damage control when things inevitably went a little wonky.

“Trust me when I say I totally believe you,” Kuroo responds, trying to insert two fingers in between Akaashi’s steel-trap grip and the sad looking hat in order to pry it away. “But, also consider this: even if it isn’t flawless, Bokuto’s still gonna have the time of his life.”

“Bokuto-san being easily pleased doesn’t mean he deserves a burning wreck of a birthday party.”

“Akaashi, dude, there’s definitely a nice middle ground between flawless and tire fire. We’re all happy to help you find it.”

Akaashi’s expression is deeply scornful in the way only he can be, which means there’s really just a tired and vaguely disapproving frown that mars his face. “Flawless, Kuroo-san.”

  


It’s the afternoon of September 20th and everything looks more or less flawless, like Akaashi planned. Balloons, flowers, a lovely dinner spread laid out on a pleasant heather gray tablecloth, drinks on the kitchen counter, the chairs strategically spaced throughout the living room to maximize seating room but also encourage conversation. Kuroo is helping Washio and Shirofuku finish taping up the last few streamers around the Happy Birthday banner, and he has to admit that it is pretty much perfect.

“Hey, Akaashi, do you know where the candles are?” Konoha asks as he passes through the room. 

Akaashi, who’s making sure the food is laid out properly with Kai’s help, calls back absently, “They should be next to the refrigerator.”

“Got it, thanks.”

When the final streamer is up, Kuroo steps back to admire his work and fistbumps both his associates. “Looking good.”

“He’s gonna be thrilled,” Shirofuku agrees.

“Uh, Akaashi,” comes Konoha’s voice again. “I found the candles; they were right where you said, but uh. I went to just check on the cake, and I? Can’t find it?”

Daichi is sweeping the doorway when these fateful words are spoken, and he has the foresight to rest the broom against the wall.

Akaashi stops in the middle of his conversation with Kai and his face goes completely blank.

“Akaashi?” Kai says slowly. “Are you-”

“...I forgot the cake.”

Ah, shit. Kuroo makes desperate eye contact with Daichi, who is already moving toward Akaashi at Mach 2 speed.

“Well, that’s not so bad-” Kuroo starts to say, but Akaashi’s voice has already gone windchime hollow as he repeats, “I _forgot_ the _cake_. Oh god. There’s no cake.” 

Kuroo can see the dread sinking into each of Akaashi’s cells as his face goes gradually gray. Daichi and Kai each have a steadying hand flat against Akaashi’s back but he seems to be losing structural soundness by the second.

“It’s okay!” Komi shouts, but it’s no use. Akaashi has started going into shock.

“We’ll go buy one right now!” Konoha yells, but it’s no use. Akaashi has blue screened and cannot reboot. Daichi leads him to the couch, where he can lie with his head back and stare at the ceiling.

“Don’t worry, we’ll fix this,” Washio swears, but it’s no use. Akaashi has transcended mortal boundaries and is now free-floating in the purgatory that exists for all people who need to leave their corporeal lives behind long enough for their bodies to black out and forget everything.

“Alright, Akaashi is out of commission and the others are bringing Bokuto over any minute now,” Kuroo says, already walking toward the door to get his shoes. “There’s a good cake shop a few blocks away. I’ll go grab something from there and be back before we know it.”

“We’ll finish the preparations here and give Miya a heads up to delay Bokuto a little longer,” Kai says.

“And revive Akaashi,” Daichi adds. “Good luck.”

Kuroo salutes them and then heads out. It only takes about ten minutes to speedwalk to the bakery, and luckily the staff is quite knowledgeable and helps him pick out a very lovely cake that would be perfect for a birthday. He grabs a box of cookies too while he’s at it, and then is zipping back to Bokuto’s apartment as fast as he can walk without messing up all the pastries.

When he arrives, everything still looks very beautiful, except Akaashi is now propped up in sitting position in a chair as wooden as his expression. 

“Worry not, I’ve got the goods,” Kuroo announces, handing the food over to Komi, who rushes away to refrigerate the cake. It’s not a moment too soon, because not even five minutes later Bokuto returns home with over half his team.

“Hey hey hey!” he yells upon entering, which everyone responds to by yelling “Happy birthday!”

To no one’s surprise, Bokuto is absolutely thrilled with the party. His sheer enthusiasm eventually pulls Akaashi back down to earth, and he stops looking like a wraith a few minutes in.

Kuroo sees Daichi check in on him briefly, but since his gloomy episode seems to have passed, they agree it’s better to not bring it up. Cake is also a success, which is why Kuroo feels justified in stealing an extra bite from Daichi’s slice. 

Daichi lets him take the bite, but points at the cake. “You can cut youself another piece, you know. Unlike us, some of these people are on very specialized diets. And besides, you deserve it.”

“Do I? I only did what anyone would do.”

“Yeah,” Daichi says, “but just in general, you’ve been crushing this ‘team dad’ thing recently. That deserves extra cake, doesn’t it?”

“Well, Sa’amura-san, I could say the same of you. Extra cake for both of us!”

At this suggestion, Daichi’s confidence wavers. “How about we share one slightly thicker slice.”

“Sure, if it makes you feel better,” Kuroo chuckles.

After the party winds down, Kuroo and Daichi help clean some things up but are shortly released by Bokuto who tells them he’ll force his team to join in.

“Go home, you lovebirds! Thanks for everything!”

“No problem,” Daichi says, but Bokuto has already sped off to tear down some streamers. “There he goes!”

“It’s that birthday adrenaline on top of his usual Bokuto power,” Kuroo says. “He’s basically a source of clean but non-renewable energy.”

They say goodbye to everyone else remaining at the party. Akaashi is by the doorway straightening out shoes.

“So how do you think it turned out?” Kuroo asks him while waiting for Daichi to put on his scarf. 

Akaashi gives him one of those quiet smiles that only come out when he’s pleasantly surprised. “Flawless, thanks to you and the others, Kuroo-san.”

\--

Yaku swings the door open with enough force to knock Kuroo back into his boyfriend, who hastily grabs the hallway railing so they don’t fall.

“ ‘m not sick,” he growls. Then he sneezes three times in a row.

“Cool lie, Yakkun. Now let us in, please,” Kuroo says breezily, waiting until Yaku sneezes again before retreating back into his apartment. A sick Yaku is like a wounded bird. Flighty and cranky.

“Morning, Yaku,” Daichi says as they follow him in. “Thanks for having us.”

“Make yourself at home, Sawamura,” Yaku says with a sniffle. “Kuroo, leave immediately.”

“Is that how you speak to someone who brought you cough medicine and homemade soup?” Kuroo demands, walking over to Yaku’s kitchen counter and upending the bag of four different cold medicines they got from Kuroo’s pharmacy before coming here. A pack of surgical masks and a box of tea also tumble out.

“He did work very hard on the miso soup,” Daichi says as he begins ladling out a portion for Yaku, who shuffles over in his slippers and reluctantly sits down. He doesn’t mention that it’s his recipe that Kuroo used, perfected over years of forcing it upon his own noisy, sickly crows. Kuroo learned most of it through osmosis over the course of their relationship, but he finally got the full recipe last time Kinoshita took ill.

“Kuroo works hard on everything,” Yaku says sounding resigned. “It’s one of the best things about him.”

Kuroo stops reading the instructions on his bottle of medicine to say, “Aww, Yaku-paisen, that’s genuinely one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“Blame it on my fever.” He accepts the bowl of soup that Daichi places in front of him and sighs after he takes his first mouthful. “You know I live in Yokohama, right? You know you drove half an hour to bring me medicine I could’ve bought myself at the pharmacy down the street?”

“Yes, but who wants to go outside when they’re already sick?” Kuroo says. “Let’s see, you’ve got a cough, runny nose, fever, but no sore throat…” 

“Tetsu was really adamant on finding the right medicine for you, but since you wouldn’t tell him your symptoms he just bought a bunch,” Daichi explains as Kuroo settles on a pack of gel capsules that he places in front of Yaku.

“Take one every six hours, and drink more water. You look dehydrated.”

Daichi slides over a glass of water that Kuroo hadn’t even seen him fill, and Yaku chugs the whole thing in two gulps.

“Alright, I feel very cared for, thank you,” Yaku says after allowing them to intensely witness him drink his soup for three minutes.

“You should. Let someone look out for you for once.”

Yaku looks up to meet Kuroo’s eyes and they stare at one another for a moment before Yaku finally laughs for the first time today and knocks back the rest of his soup. “Like you haven’t had my back since we were sixteen. The soup was tasty; you did a good job. Now get out before you catch whatever I have.”

“Turn on your humidifier and drink some hot tea,” Daichi reminds Yaku as he firmly guides them to the door. Daichi really is the best backup a guy can have.

“Take a nap if you need it, you workaholic!” Kuroo chimes in.

“Don’t forget to have soup again tomorrow.”

“Gargle with salt if your throat starts to hurt! And call me!”

Yaku finally has them in the doorway, and plants his foot on Kuroo’s butt to push him the last few centimeters out. “Yeah, will do, will do. Thanks again and stay healthy. Goodbye!” He closes the door right away.

A week later they receive a card in the mail that just has the words “Thanks for the usual,” scrawled inside.

\--

Asahi slams his hand on Daichi’s when he tries to escape with his credit card again, and Daichi is reminded of just what a good spiker he used to be.

“Don’t even try it, Daichi. We agreed to split the bill four ways.”

“Shimizu paid last time,” Daichi says stubbornly, using his other hand to worm his card out of the pile, but this time Suga catches him in a headlock and tugs it away.

“And you got the one before that! If anything, I should be the one paying-”

Suga drops Daichi out of his hold suddenly, and Asahi and Daichi realize at the same time that while he was holding Daichi down, he took the chance to steal his own card back.

“That smooth bastard,” Daichi mutters as they hurry after him, but Kiyoko comes sweeping in from the right and traps Suga by linking her arm with his and spinning him away.

“Wow, expert move,” Asahi comments, before he starts power-walking toward the cash register. Daichi curses his long, sleek legs and charges after him, too slow to catch up.

“Didn’t you just say we had an agreement?” Daichi snarls, but Asahi just shrugs apologetically and hands his card to the waitress at the stand.

“Excuse me, I’d like to pay for the Tanaka party, please.”

“Oh,” and she gives him an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, sir, but someone else has already put that check on his tab.”

Asahi blinks behind his glasses. “Who?”

“The tall gentleman over there, at the second table.”

Asahi and Daichi turn in unison to see the tall gentleman refill everyone’s glass with water before adding more to the pile of meat on Kageyama’s plate. “Eat up! Gotta get that protein before practice tomorrow!”

“What about me, Kuroo-san?” Hinata asks, holding his plate out.

“You know I’d never forget you!” When Kuroo pops a thick slice of pork in front of Hinata he notices Daichi looking and twiddles his fingers in a wave.

“ _Yes_ ,” Daichi says, fist-pumping hard enough to almost punch Asahi in the hip. 

“Wait, you sent Kuroo to do your dirty work?” Asahi exclaims as they walk back toward the group. “That’s not fair.”

“Nope, he just read my mind and took initiative while I was distracted by you goons.”

“It’s hard to remember that you two haven’t been married for the last twenty years when you act like this.”

“Don’t be envious,” Daichi says, patting Asahi on the back. “Want us to set you up on a blind date?”

“Is it going to turn out like Suga’s gundam phase?”

“No, because you’re not as ludicrous a human being as Suga is. The problem is finding someone who won’t run away...”

Asahi looks askance at him. “You’re awful, Daichi. I don’t think I want your help; you’ll probably scare off all my potential dates before I even meet them.”

“You don’t need my help to do that.” Asahi gasps and they begin roughly elbowing each other.

“Daichi-san! Stop bullying Asahi-san and come eat!” Tanaka yells from his spot beside Ennoshita and Kanoka.

“Concentrate on yourself!” Daichi shouts back, laughing. “You’re the star of this party.”

“It’s not that big of a promotion,” Tanaka tries to deny, and three fourths of the people there shush him loudly. At some point Suga had been returned to the table, though where he got alcohol from is the real mystery. Daichi settles back into his seat between Kuroo and Narita and helps Noya cook so he can take a break to eat. He makes sure to distribute food fairly, since he knows Narita usually hangs back to allow others to get their meat first. He also makes sure to keep a close eye on Kageyama, who has a tendency to eat too fast in response to people putting more food on his plate. At least twice he has to force Kageyama to take a drink and a moment to breathe before more meat enters his mouth.

Half an hour later the festivities are still raging, but he excuses himself to the balcony behind their table to take a call from work. He helps his coworker settle something in her account, and when he hangs up he notices that Kuroo has come out to join him and enjoy some spring air.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Daichi says, walking a few steps to stop next to Kuroo, who’s leaning his forearms on the railing as he stares up at the sky.

“The moon is beautiful tonight,” he says with a sly smile, probably trying to send Daichi off balance. The moon is barely an almond sliver behind the thin evening clouds, and Daichi feels so terribly fond of this ridiculous man that he stifles his instinctive laugh and just smiles back.

“So are you.”

“Hey!” Kuroo says, taken aback. “That’s not fair, you’re supposed to leave that line for me!”

Daichi rolls his eyes and slides over to rest his head against Kuroo’s shoulder. “I leave enough things to you as it is. Which, by the way, thanks for folding the laundry yesterday.”

“Of course. You’ve had some long nights at the office.”

“Hopefully ones that’ll be over soon.” Daichi leans up to draw Kuroo into a kiss, laughing slightly when he realizes Kuroo tastes like meat and ponzu sauce. “You’ll only have to miss me for a few more days.”

Kuroo cups the back of Daichi’s neck when they separate, looking down at him with those amber eyes that always burn Daichi from the inside out. “Who says I don’t miss you even when you’re here?” 

“That’s almost romantic,” Daichi teases, and Kuroo boops him on the nose before letting him go.

“I’m prime romance, baby. You wanna know what I’ve got planned for us after this?”

“Oh? We have plans now? I figured we would get dragged into karaoke by some of the guys.”

“Not tonight! Listen. You,” he says, poking Daichi in the arm. “Me. Our couch. A whole tiramisu. And our top five Ghibli movies, starting with Princess Mononoke.”

“Not Castle in the Sky?”

“Eh, I could be convinced.”

“And where’d you hide an entire tiramisu from me?”

“I have my ways,” Kuroo says mysteriously. He winks, but it’s the eye hidden behind his cowlick, so he just looks silly.

Voices call them back into the restaurant, but as he heads in, Daichi gives Kuroo’s hand a squeeze: his silent way of saying yes.

\--

Kuroo and Daichi have been officially summoned to Kenma’s house — still not in Roppongi Hills — so they’re sitting on his couch in the living room nursing glasses of calpico, waiting for the man himself to finish editing a video on his computer.

“Alright,” Kuroo says grimly. “Place your bets now. Why did Kenma call us here?”

“He’s moving?”

“Nah, he and Yamamoto just got this place like a year ago.”

“Someone’s pregnant,” Daichi suggests.

“Man, I hope not. Whoever it is, I don’t want to be learning about it from Kenma.”

“They’re secretly married?” Whatever expression Kuroo has on his face causes Daichi to quickly backpedal, claiming, “It’s just a guess!”

“There’s no way Kenma would get hitched without telling- oh, god.” Kuroo puts his head in his hands. “He would totally get hitched without telling me. Just like he didn’t tell me he was going to run off and become internet famous.”

“You’re being dramatic. He did tell you; you just didn’t realize how big he really was.”

Before Kuroo can spiral any further, Kenma enters the room with his own glass of calpico. He slouches into his chair across from them and says, “Kuro. Daichi-kun. Thanks for seeing me here today.”

“What’s happened with you?” Kuroo asks, suspicious. “Do you have a hidden baby? Did Yamamoto flee the country? Did he burn Nekoma down? Did you get taller while I wasn’t looking? Are you a billionaire? Have you been racketeering? Are you in the yakuza? Did Nintendo put a hit out on you for corporate espionage? Is _Fukunaga_ in the yakuza?”

Kenma wrinkles his nose and kicks a fallen throw pillow directly into Kuroo’s face. Daichi dodges left instead of protecting his boyfriend. Kuroo barely manages to block, and sputters angrily as Kenma says, “How many times do I have to tell you that I haven’t grown since I was twenty, Kuro?” He doesn’t bother addressing any of Kuroo’s other concerns.

“I think he gets it now. Or not, sometimes he’s kind of dense,” Daichi says, taking the pillow from Kuroo before he punts it back in Kenma’s direction. “Is everything okay? We were just worried since it’s unusual for you to be so vague about visiting.”

“Everything’s fine,” Kenma assures him, ignoring Kuroo as he rubs at his face. “I just wanted to tell you something in person. And ask for a little advice, I suppose.”

“If it’s about embezzlement, we can’t help you,” Kuroo says sternly. “Anything else is fine.”

“It will never be about embezzlement. No, I heard from Shouyou that your meddling in his non-relationship with Tsukishima was actually helpful, so it gave me another push to come out and say this.” Kenma unfolds from his chair to properly plant his feet on the ground and look seriously across the room at them. “First of all, please don’t freak out.”

“Not at all reassuring, but okay,” Kuroo agrees.

“Second of all, you’re the first people I’m telling, so I’m serious, Kuro. Don’t freak out.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle him,” Daichi says, putting his arm around Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Daichi-kun. Okay. Here goes. I’m going to propose to Tora.”

Kuroo, to his credit, does not freak out. He just tries to stand very abruptly, but Daichi’s strong arm prevents him from doing so. His knees give out under Daichi’s force and he collapses back into the couch.

“Kuro,” Kenma starts to say, but Kuroo interrupts him.

“That’s fantastic. I’m really happy for you two,” he says, and Kenma’s face softens when he notices how much Kuroo means it. Kenma’s always been family to him, and Yamamoto has always been a beloved part of his team. This is just the ultimate culmination of those two facts.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got to actually ask now. And I was thinking of when to say it. I know some people do it at a restaurant after a dinner date, but I don’t really know about that.” He wrinkles his nose, irritated. “I tried to do some research, but I got bored of reading wedding articles online.”

“Well, hey, that’s why we’re here!” Daichi says brightly. “I mean, neither of us have experience with this either, but we can work it out! Any ideas so far?”

“I was thinking maybe after Nekoma’s last qualifier match,” Kenma says, scuffing his toe against his carpet. “I’m gonna be tagging along to watch anyway, and he always looks so happy-” He stops in the middle of his sentence, looking kind of embarrassed. “Anyway, it was a thought.”

“No one knows each other better than the two of you. Do you think he’ll enjoy the spectacle, or will one moment take away from the other?” Daichi asks.

Kenma sticks his hands in his hoodie pocket and thinks about it for a moment. “You’re right, it might draw attention away from the team, and Tora would never want that.”

“Okay, that’s one situation down. What else were you thinking?” Daichi is doing all the asking, because Kuroo still hasn’t quite absorbed the weight of this revelation.

“I guess I could do something big and in public, but that’s not really my style. Besides, Tora is so loud we’d probably get chased away for making a scene.” He makes a suddenly disgusted face. “I’m definitely not going to stream it.”

“Yeah, that’s a bit much. Okay, so it sounds like you’re leaning toward something a bit more private. You could do it at a small gathering with friends, but it might also be something you want to keep just between the two of you.”

Kenma mulls this option over before saying thoughtfully, “Just us is better. That way he can announce it to everyone however he wants afterwards.”

Kuroo can already imagine what kind of event that’ll be. He finally finds his words again to say, “Then it looks like you’ve got the gist of it. Somewhere private and meaningful for just the two of you. The when and the how we can workshop more once you have a ring.”

“Exactly,” Daichi agrees.

“Okay,” Kenma says, before nodding more firmly. “That’s- that’s the plan, then. Now I just have to go ring shopping. Thanks, Daichi-kun, Kuro. You two really were helpful.”

“You’re welcome,” Daichi says on their behalf. “You can always come to us.”

“I know,” and he gives them one of those sly Kenma smiles.

They stay and watch one of Kageyama’s matches with Kenma before leaving to beat the traffic back home. 

As Kenma walks them to the car, the aftershocks of the news hit Kuroo, and his clutches his face.

“Oh my god, _you’re getting married_ ,” he says, head in his hands again.

“Not yet, you doofus. Tora has to say yes first.”

“We all know he’s going to.” Kuroo stops being dramatic for long enough to grasp Kenma by the arms. “Daichi was right, obviously. Whatever you need help with: opinions, planning, whatever. I’m here for you and I’m so, so excited for you both. I’m sorry if I seem out of it — I’m just adjusting to the thought of you being married. I think sometimes I just forget how much older we are now, y’know? How far we’ve come.”

“I know, Kuro,” Kenma says, letting Kuroo bump their foreheads together. “Thanks for always being there.”

“Thanks for finding me all those years ago.”

Kenma allows one hug before he sends Kuroo to join Daichi, who is already waiting in the car. “You know, I’m surprised you haven’t asked Daichi-kun yet. You two have been together forever,” he says.

“I mean, we’ve discussed it. I know it’s in our future. It’s just that neither of us has made a move yet. I dunno, maybe we’ll have good news for you soon,” Kuroo jokes.

Kenma makes a little humming noise. “I’ll look forward to it.” With that, he pushes Kuroo toward the passenger seat and waves them out of his driveway.

  


That night, after turning in early, Kuroo sets his novel aside when Daichi climbs into bed and sits next to him, frowning at his phone.

“More emails?”

“You can safely assume the answer to that question is always yes.”

They sit in companionable silence as Daichi reads his messages and Kuroo reaches another winding twist in his mystery. When Daichi finally puts his phone down, Kuroo stretches his arms and leans into him. 

“Do you ever get tired at being so good at advice?”

Daichi laughs against Kuroo’s neck and leans back. “Only as tired as you ever get watching over our three dozen adult children.”

“Couldn’t do it without you.” Kuroo holds out a hand and Daichi shakes it.

“And I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

“Really though, I still can’t believe Kenma is getting married first of all our friends,” Kuroo says, resting his head on top of Daichi’s. “Who’d have thought he would settle down. Or be rich. Or famous. Honestly, I think I went somewhere tragically right while raising him. Dunno how, but I think I deserve some recognition for it regardless.”

“Yes, I’m sure his lovely parents would be in full agreement with you.”

Kuroo laughs, slinging his arm over Daichi’s shoulders and snuggling aggressively into him. “If we ask my folks, I’m sure they’d say Kenma raised me as much as I did him. But still! To think he’d get married before me! Wow.”

“Well,” Daichi says, tilting his head slightly as he draws out the word. “I mean, we could change that.”

“Hm?” Kuroo says, drawing away to look at him. “What’d you say?”

“Wait here a moment.” Daichi extricates himself from the bed to go root around in the back of the closet for something. Kuroo doesn’t think there’s anything back there except an empty shoebox and probably a fallen tie. When Daichi returns, he sits cross-legged at the foot of the bed across from Kuroo, instead of returning to his side of the bed. His hands are hidden behind his back.

“Are you going to do a magic trick?” Kuroo asks, raising his eyebrows.

“You could consider it that,” Daichi says with a grin. “I’ll need a brave volunteer to make it work.”

“Pick me, pick me.” Kuroo waves his hands unenthusiastically in the air, laughing when Daichi jabs him with a foot.

“Yeah, you in the front row. Alright, I just need you to close your eyes and you’ll undergo a mystical transformation. You ready?”

“Of course,” Kuroo says, playing along. He closes his eyes.

“Now, I’m going to wave my magic, uh, hand. And when I say ‘Abracadabra,’ you’ll open your eyes and find that you’ve changed from a boyfriend into a fiancé. Abracadabra!”

“Wait, _what?_ ”

When Kuroo opens his eyes, he sees Daichi holding a box out to him and smiling. Kuroo just stares at it, before raising his gaze to meet Daichi’s eyes.

“Tada!” Daichi exclaims. “You can open it if you want.”

With shaky hands, Kuroo does. Even though he expects what he finds inside, he still doesn’t expect what he finds inside. A ring: lovely, simple, and golden.

“So, what do you think?” Daichi asks softly. “Did the transformation work?”

Kuroo can’t help the laugh that escapes him as euphoria fills his lungs. “Do you mean it? Is- is this a proposal? Are you really asking?”

Daichi smiles at him, a quiet kind of elation hiding in the corners of his eyes. “I do mean it, and it’s definitely a proposal. Tetsu, I’ve been in love with you since about the seventh time you shook my hand. Thank you for everything that you do and everything that you are; I couldn’t ask for a more loving, brilliant, and hard-working partner. I know everyone says we’ve been married since forever, but I’d like to make that a reality. Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Definitely. Always,” Kuroo says, and barely readies his arms in time to catch Daichi when he surges forward to kiss him.

After they finally disentangle, Kuroo very seriously places his hands on Daichi’s shoulders to ask him, “Would it be a bad idea for me to carry you and spin around in a circle like they do in movies?”

“Probably, but you can try anyway if you don’t mind throwing out your back, old man.”

“Bold words from someone who got a leg cramp the other day after we went to the bathhouse.”

“You realize that after we’re married you’ll be legally obligated to help me massage my cramped leg.”

“Oh, that’s a law, is it?”

“Yep. So is helping your spouse fix the blanket because the two of you knocked it off the bed.”

“Thank goodness one of us knows these things.”

Kuroo sets the ring box carefully on his nightstand and helps Daichi shake out their comforter and lay it evenly on the bed before they crawl back in.

“We don’t actually have to get married before Kenma, by the way,” Daichi says. They’re lying on their sides facing one another, their hands linked. “We’ve waited for a while, I don’t think it would hurt to wait a little longer.”

“Fair point. We can check in with him since neither of us cares. However, something to keep in mind: if we get married first, we’ll be equipped to help everyone else when their time comes.”

Daichi’s eyes widen. “You’re so right.”

Kuroo smiles at his starstruck expression. “No, Daichi, _we_ are so right. Now, come here. I’ve got an engagement present for you.”

“It’s probably the same present I have for you,” Daichi says with a laugh, and he leans in to find out.


End file.
